


The Cambridge Academy of Witchcraft

by UndercoverWitch



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Multi, Not Epilogue Compliant, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:13:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25240690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UndercoverWitch/pseuds/UndercoverWitch
Summary: Hogwarts had meant everything to Hermione once, but over time she realised that it wasn't the education she had wanted. She opens her own Academy in what used to be Circe College, a tertiary witchcraft college of international acclaim that closed with the rise of Grindelwald and the decline of the British Wizarding population. Making better connections between the muggle and wizarding world was never going to be easy, but Hermione had never thought she'd be doing it with the Malfoys by her side.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 3
Kudos: 19





	1. Easter Break

Easter Break was when Hermione decided that she was sick of keeping the fire in her office going. It had been a fun little ritual to keep it going the muggle way, but the truth was it was hard work. Early each morning, with her eyes barely open and her nose a little sniffly, she would come down to her office and gently coax the whispering embers back into a roaring fire. The rich orange light glowing from the corner of her office felt cosier than the blue of her conjured flames, it almost felt warmer too. It had taken a few months, but by February Hermione had it down to almost muscle memory. Of course, when the students left for two weeks the lure of a lazy morning in bed outweighed the little joys of tending to a fireplace. Hermione didn’t even bother asking for breakfast to be brought to her room, she just nestled deeper into her blankets and kept her curtains drawn.

By the third day she’d stopped sleeping in. She found herself eating alone in the dining hall before sunrise, taking in the details around the room. They hadn’t changed much when they began the Academy. Most of the place was empty, it had been almost cleared out when the college was closed. They’d spent a couple of days packing up some older books and furniture, but there was less left around than Hermione had thought there would be. Her only connection to the centuries of witches before her was left in the walls. The echo of shoes clattering through an adjacent doorway or books dropped to tables in the library, the feeling that hundreds of like-minded souls had pressed up the same cool wall you leant against to read every afternoon. Circe College had a strong history, every day Hermione came across a new quirk that reminded her how old these walls really were. That morning she was looking at some runes etched over the staircase leading down to the buttery. They were an experimental mix, probably protective. She’d need to get closer to work out exactly when they were carved, but she presumed they were centuries old.

Hermione was finishing off her tea when she heard the door creak open. She didn’t need to look up to see who it was, there was only one other person still on the grounds.

“Good morning, Headmistress Granger.” She smiled at her colleague as she sat down across the table.

“Good morning, Dr Parkens. I trust the break is treating you well?”

“I’ve organised my lesson plans for the summer term and I think I’ve made good head-way on next year’s curriculum. It’s mostly the same as I taught at my previous school, though I have less students and more subjects, so it’s still new territory.” Hermione smiled.

“We’re fortunate in many ways that we are beginning with small numbers. We have the time and the flexibility to make things work out our way. I’ve kept an eye on the work and grades you’ve been submitting, you have my every confidence going forward.”

“Thank you, Headmistress. I’m blessed with attentive and keen students, their grades are a reflection of their talents and determination.”

“Well I was hoping we’d all take some time this break to wind down a little. It’s why I asked the students to return home for the two weeks. They need some time away, as do the staff.” Hermione raised a subtle eyebrow at Parkens, who looked suitably chastised.

“Yes, yes. I’m actually headed into Kings Cross today to take my son home, he wanted to stay behind to studybut I had to remind him that he has a desk with us and a family that want to see him.” Hermione chuckled as she spelled her mug clean.

“Ah, I remember the allure of Hogwarts at Easter time. Christmas is different, but so many students from magical families stay over the break that it feels wrong to leave, like you’re missing out.” Parkens sighed.

“Of course, I imagine he just wants to soak up everything he thinks he misses out on having a muggle family. I just hope he realises that what we have, as muggles I mean, is just as special as magic is.” Parkens seemed certain of herself, but the older woman couldn’t quite meet Hermione’s eye.

“Well I hope you have a lovely break, Doctor, I’m sure everyone will return ready to buckle down. In the meantime, I have a few donor meetings and most of our new student interviews next week. Is there anything you’d like me to bring up?”

“Oh, well I hadn’t thought of that.” Hermione nodded slightly and began to send her crockery down to the kitchen.

“No matter, if you think of anything today drop in and let me know. Otherwise I’m sure you could send word somehow.”

“Thank you, Headmistress.” Hermione shook her head as she stood from the table.

“Please, between colleagues it’s just Hermione.”

——————————

The Donor meetings all seemed to go the same way, rich witches and wizards were trying anything to clear their names. The war may have been long over, but reputations were hard to recover in the Wizarding World. Hermione wasn’t hurting for galleons, but it was in the best interest of the school to develop a network of support, especially the support of families whose names carried weight in the Wizarding World. And yet, every meeting ended the same way.

“Of course,” Mr Flint drawled. “It’s important that the curriculum is kept under close scrutiny. Whilst we… applaud… your commitment to a broad education, it should be acknowledged that NEWT results are the priority.”

In other words, toe the line, keep the muggle stuff quiet. Those meetings all ended the same way.

“Thank you for your time, Mr Flint. I’ll need to discuss with my staff and board before we can agree to any caveats.” And then she’d either show them across the ward line before the front gate or to the floo fireplace in the gatehouse. It was disappointing, to say the least. The last meeting was scheduled for Tuesday afternoon, but Hermione hadn’t been told who it was. Ginny had set it up, she was a social butterfly at heart, and seemed to have no issues finding potential donors. As far as Hermione was concerned, so long as she didn’t need to invite Marietta Edgecombe across her ward line, she didn’t really care.

When she saw who stepped out of the floo, Hermione decided she should amend the rules. No Edgecombes, and no Malfoys.


	2. Narcissa's Tour

“Good Afternoon Mrs. Malfoy, welcome to the Cambridge Academy of Witchcraft.” Hermione extended her hand over the ward line and was met with what was possibly the poshest handshake she’d ever received. Delicate, yet firm at the same time.

“Well Met, Headmistress Granger. Thank you for granting my request to meet.” Hermione trained her eyes on Mrs. Malfoy’s, determined not to give anything away. Hermione couldn’t quite fathom how Mrs. Malfoy had decided to come to the Academy, or how Ginny had managed to set this up in the first place.

“Of course, would you like a tour of our grounds?” Mrs. Malfoy nodded and followed Hermione from the gatehouse.

Hermione focussed on the sound of gravel beneath her feet as she lead Mrs. Malfoy to the main building.

“We’re unplottable here, much like Diagon Alley. As far as most are concerned, the Gibbs Building backs straight onto the Back Lawn, but anyone who’s been made aware of our existence can see our gate there.” She waved towards it, knowing Mrs. Malfoy wouldn’t be surprised by the fact she could see muggles walking past the gate, not noticing the ornate iron gate.

“I assume you remember Number 12 Grimmauld Place from your childhood?” Mrs. Malfoy nodded slightly.

“Well we’re hidden in the same way. It’s extraordinary, really. Three acres of land, totally hidden from sight. We have our gatehouse here, where our floo fireplace is. Moving forward we hope to set up an Owlery out here too, we don’t expect to need a Gate Keep, and if we do they’ll likely stay in the main building.” Hermione opened the main door with a wave of her hand.

“Through this way.”

Hermione led Mrs. Malfoy through each of the main building’s four floors, describing a variety of classrooms before ending with an empty boarder’s room. The older woman stayed quiet, nodding where appropriate.

“We have this room furnished for tours, no-one stays here. Each student has their own room, with a study space and an ensuite. At the moment we have the capacity to house approximately two hundred students. Of course, given the British Wizarding population it’s highly unlikely that we’d ever see those rates of enrolments. It’s disappointing, of course, but it opens other avenues for us. Our current cohort will sit their NEWT and A Level exams next year, after that we expect some to explore masteries which will unfortunately take them overseas, though it is my hope that in the future Wizarding Britain is strong enough to sustain a tertiary education sector, perhaps we will even see Circe College reopen alongside the Academy. Going forward, we are also considering varying our NEWT and A Level programs to be more flexible for our students. A double workload is not easy, though it is all we can sustain with our current staffing levels.” By now, this was a practised monologue. Hermione knew that at a decent pace, she’d be back on the ground floor and a few strides from her office.

“Let’s continue this in my office, after you”

Mrs. Malfoy should have stood out amongst the clutter of mismatched trinkets and piles of books, the eclectic and homey office seemed like the last place she would find comfortable. Yet there she was, prim and proper and totally in control. Her face stayed almost unnaturally still, even as she sat down at Hermione’s desk. It was incredibly unnerving, Hermione couldn’t tell if it was a power move or simply her natural state. Perhaps, after all these decades married to Lucius Malfoy, there was no longer a distinction between the two.

“Would you like tea, Mrs. Malfoy?”

“Yes, thank you.” Hermione pulled out her communication journal and flipped through the pages. She knew it would pique interest, and though she didn’t like to show-off, it seemed necessary in donor meetings. Finding the page titled _Academy Kitchens_ she wrote out her tea order. By the time she’d put her pen and journal away, a tea tray had appeared on her desk with her favourite lilac tea set. Hermione served, keeping an eye on Mrs. Malfoy. Of course, she gave nothing away.

“I trust you are satisfied with our grounds? We have some outbuildings I didn’t take you through, I can show you on your way out.” Mrs. Malfoy inclined her head politely.

“I heard tales of the College grounds as a child, I am pleased to be able to see them for myself.” Hermione was surprised, it was more than she’d said over the last twenty minutes. It had been her quickest tour to date, usually a donor would ask a few questions, mention something about the grounds.

“I’d like to hear your thoughts so far.” Hermione deliberately sipped from her cup after that. The Malfoys may be intimidating, but she was happy to sit in silence until Mrs. Malfoy spoke. Mrs. Malfoy rose an eyebrow at her, clearly understanding the play. She took a sip from her cup too, a small smirk appearing on her face. It was the same smirk she’d seen in class for years. Funny, she’d never considered how much of Draco Malfoy came from his mother.

“My Great-Aunt attended Circe College. She attained her mastery of charms here and stayed in residence as a Fellow for decades, researching experimental charms. The stories she told, the generations of women of who lived and studied within these walls.” Mrs. Malfoy levelled Hermione with a stern look.

“We may have stood on opposite sides during the war, Headmistress Granger, but you know that it was never as simple as you and us. Wizarding Britain lost more than just Circe College in these last hundred years. We have rebuilt again and again, each time losing more of what made us great. Hogwarts, The Ministry, the private sector. It has come to a point where only those of us who were fortunate enough to spend time in our childhood with our eldest relatives have any idea of what has been lost.” Hermione almost wanted to sigh. Of course, Narcissa Malfoy would be no different to the other potential donors.

“Make no mistake, I won’t be on the cover of the Prophet proclaiming that Muggle Education is the greatest thing to happen to Wizarding Britain.” Hermione placed her empty tea cup back on the tray

“Well, thank you for—“

“I didn’t finish. Whilst I may not personally support muggle education for witches, I cannot deny that the lack of magical tertiary education in Britain has had devastating effects on our society and our international standing. I cannot see any way forward that does not involve radical change to our approach to education. I’m not going to tell you to treat the — what were they, A Levels? — as inferior. In fact I believe that their approach to critical thinking, assumption of tertiary goals and unique perspective is the only way to reinvigorate the magical tertiary sector in Britain.” Hermione did her best not to gape.

“I’m not quite sure I understand what you’re saying, Mrs. Malfoy.”

“What I’m saying is that in an ideal world witches and wizards would receive a comprehensive primary education, a secondary education of international acclaim that created creative and critical young people. In an ideal world, tertiary education would be standard for school professors, ministry officials, our inventors. There was a time when we were better than muggles, I have no hesitation in saying that, but I am ashamed to say that we no longer are. What muggles can do, what they have become, is far greater than any of us could even begin to understand. Not just because we’re old bigots, but because we have been raised and educated to follow the rules, do as we’re told and to fear anything that threatens us. We didn’t even know that the greatest threat to our society was our own children.”

——————————

_Ginny,_

_I’m not sure how you make the connections you do, but I just finished up my meeting with Narcissa Malfoy. I probably shouldn’t discuss what happened in our meeting, but I can say that she has given me a lot to think about. None of the other meetings seem like they’re going to pan out, fortunately we aren’t getting desperate. Yet. Next time you’re sending someone like Mrs. Malfoy my way, please give me a heads up. I nearly dropped to the floor in shock when she stepped out of the floo. She said nothing the whole tour, just gliding through the halls behind me without a hint of emotion. It was pretty creepy, to tell the truth. She invited me to tea at La Rosa, which I had to decline, obviously. I’m starting to itch for the outside world again. Almost everyday I sit at the front gate and imagine what I would do if I could leave, where I would wander to. Merlin, that sounds pathetic. Eight months of confinement to the grounds and I’m dreaming of nothing bigger than being able to walk to Sainsbury’s on the high street. I spent the entirety of my fourth year at Hogwarts, from September to July, and was sad to leave. Of course, I don’t really want to leave, not until the wards are strong enough anyway, but I do wish I could duck into town or go sit by the canal. Maybe it’s because I read here, I know exactly what’s outside my gate, what I’m missing. Next year, with some elves (paid of course) and a larger staff the wards should be strong enough to visit around campus. Maybe in years after that I’ll be able to go further, in to Diagon or up to Hogsmeade. I’m sure once I CAN leave, I’ll stop wanting to._

_Since I can’t leave, I’ll be waiting for you to come here! Give my love to little Jamesie and Harry, I have Easter gifts here for all of you, see you soon xx_

_Lots of love,_

_Hermione_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I'm still finding the ratio of dialogue to action that feels right for this piece. Thanks for stopping by, please leave a comment to let me know your thoughts.


	3. Malfoy Manor's Library

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Narcissa returns home after meeting Headmistress Granger

It had been years since Narcissa Malfoy had come home smiling. She could remember the last time, March 1994. Iris Parkinson had hosted a nauseatingly pink afternoon tea, complete with strawberry tarts and bouquets of carnations. Of course, Narcissa had played her role as guest perfectly, though a tad cold. Iris had been hanging at her elbow, droning on and on about how _sweet_ their children looked together, as though Pansy Parkinson could ever be described as sweet. It was a shame, really, how much Pansy took after her mother. It was nearing five o’clock and Narcissa was looking forward to leaving when Iris broke from her manners and straight out asked if ‘Lucius will be getting around to drafting up that betrothal contract’. The idle chatter about the room stopped and eyes began to turn towards Narcissa, witnessing the next piece of society gossip. Narcissa had taken a long sip of her tea, hiding her smile. 

“Iris,” she kept her voice low but firm, the same tone she’d used with Draco as a child. “I’m sure you’re aware by now that Draco is still a child. His betrothal will happen in a similar manner to my own, with his input, when he is ready, and after the age of twenty-one.” After that, none of the ladies had said a word to her, until upon her departure Augusta Longbottom had brushed past her and slipped parchment into her pocket.

But this smile was different, it wasn’t from satisfaction. No, this smile was one she had trouble suppressing, it was one of real and genuine hope. Narcissa walked straight through the reception hall to Draco’s study, knocking twice on the oak door and opening it immediately.

“Mother, I still do not understand the point of knocking if you refuse to wait for my answer.” Narcissa closed the door behind her and began to look through Draco’s bookshelf.

“I knock to be polite, but I come in because I’m your mother and I’m allowed to.” She heard his snort as he put his quill down and rolled up a piece of parchment.

“Well, fortunately, I have some time before I meet Blaise. What can I do for you, Mother? Are you looking for a particular book?”

“No, not anything in particular. I was hoping to find an advanced charms text, they never were my strongest subject.” Draco hummed in agreement.

“Me either, I don’t believe I have any in here. Perhaps you should try the library upstairs.” Narcissa turned to face her son, taking in his steady gaze. His brow was furrowed, his left hand stroked his chin slowly.

“Are you alright, Mother?” It was then that Narcissa realised she was still smiling.

“Of course, my boy, why do you ask?”

“I heard the floo chime, you’ve been out.”

“Yes.”

“And you’re smiling.”

“Yes.”

“Where were you?” Narcissa let her smile extend into a full, teethy grin.

“Tell me Draco, what do you know about Muggle Education?”

——————————

“You know, Cissa, I don’t ordinarily like to interfere in your… enterprises. But I would appreciate forewarning when you track down Ginevra Potter in Diagon Alley.” Lucius peered at her over his newspaper, one eyebrow raised.

“Where did you hear about that?” Lucius chuckled.

“Playing this straight, are we? Well then, word somehow made its way to Regina Rowle, who spoke of it to her colleague this afternoon in La Rosa, where I was just a few tables away for a business luncheon.” Narcissa nodded. She assumed her talk with Mrs. Potter would have caught the attention of social gossip.

“Well, if we’re playing this straight. That was only the start. I’m sure you’ve heard that Hermione Granger, Headmistress of that new witchcraft academy, has been holding meetings with potential donors?” Lucius hummed in agreement. “Well, I happened to hear that Ginevra Potter was helping find some candidates, and sought her out to arrange a meeting. I went this morning.” Lucius folded his newspaper and gave Narcissa his full attention.

“And?”

“It’s exactly what we discussed, all those years ago when Draco was young. Their program, Granger’s ambitions, I think she’ll single-handedly bring tertiary education back to Magical Britain.” Lucius sat back in his chair, unaware he’d been edging forwards with his wife’s every word.

“It’ll be a battle; she’s young, and has no family connections. Drive and heart will only get her so far.”

“The way I see it, all she needs is a strong hand to back her up and a few students from good family names that get good results.” Lucius brought his hand to his chin, looking eerily similar to how Draco had earlier that evening.

“I suppose I could do some asking around for you-“

“No,” Narcissa cut him off. “That won’t be necessary. I have this in hand, let me know if you hear anyone mention the Academy. I’ll come to you when I need your help.” Lucius smiled back at his wife and lent forward to pick up his newspaper.

“Of course, I look forward to seeing where this takes you.”

——————————

Narcissa wandered through the manor library with great interest. She knew the room well, but had never paid particular attention to its organisation. She couldn’t quite work out the system. At first, she had assumed the texts would be organised by author, or by topic, like at Hogwarts. It was something she’d never paid close attention to before, she would ordinarily use a summoning charm, or ask a house elf to retrieve her a particular book.

“Ginger?” The little elf appeared beside her with a sharp crack.

“Yes, Missus Cissa, Miss?” Ginger was smoothing out her green apron and looking expectantly up at her, with big ears brushing softly over her shoulders.

“I’m looking for an advanced charms book, but I don’t have a specific title in mind. I’ve never had to… browse… before,” Narcissa’s lip curled slightly at the mundanity of browsing. “Tell me, how is the library organised?” Ginger wrung her hands slightly.

“Missus Cissa doesn’t know? It’s is a Malfoy tradition. The books are organised by which Malfoys brings them home. We’s are with books Missus Agnes and Mister Pericles collects. Over there is Master Lucius and Mister Draco’s books, Miss. If you’s is looking for new fancy charms, they’s be over there, Miss. Parker says the new fancy Wizard charms are being the best from Russia, Miss.” Ginger beamed, clearly glad to be of service. Narcissa pursed her lips.

“You discuss Wizard charms? I wouldn’t think they’d be of any use to you.” She tried to smile gently, not wanting the elf to clam up. The elves were just beginning to warm to the family again.

“We’s be hearing lots of things, Missus Cissa. And baking, even elf ways, takes a long time. There are lots of things we’s like to talk about. Like your roses, Miss.” Narcissa smiled more naturally then, she knew the elf was trying to back out of upsetting her mistress by dropping a compliment. It didn’t quite matter to her though, her roses were a point of pride and her elves had good taste. A compliment for self-preservation’s sake from Ginger was still a compliment.

“Thank you, Ginger. If you have any thoughts on what I may add to my garden, feel free to let me know. You may leave.” Ginger visibly relaxed and nodded happily before she disappeared with a crack.

Narcissa made her way over to the further section of the library that Ginger had pointed out. It made sense now, Malfoys were so keen on leaving an individual legacy. It felt so different from her upbringing, her mother’s Rosier values and her father’s Black fanaticism tended more towards supporting the family name and reputation. The private areas of the manor were plastered in portraits, some days their chattering and boasting became so loud it was uncomfortable to walk down the halls.

Looking over the book titles there, _Household Transfiguration, Master Engle’s Potion Techniques,_ Narcissa became concerned that Lucius had an aversion to Charms as well. That certainly wouldn’t do, to have three powerful adults in the home and not one of them proficient in complex charms. She had resigned herself to a trip into Diagon when she spotted a small blue volume, _чары магия трудно: Tough Charms Magic, a Modern English Translation_. She slipped it from its spot and flicked through. Lots of diagrams of complex wand movements, big blocks of text and no easily discernible subtitles. Just the sort of book Narcissa knew she would loathe. With a sigh, she tucked it into her robe and left the library, putting out the candles with a wave of her wand. Later, as she sat up reading well into the early hours of the morning, Narcissa thought she may change her mind on charms after all. That is, if she could make any of these work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm hoping to pepper in more chapters like this from other perspectives throughout the work. The main perspective will be Hermione's though. Thanks for reading :)


	4. The Prophet

The first morning of term was met with a light drizzle of rain. Hermione breakfasted early, clearing out of the Dining Hall before anyone else was out of bed. It had been a few days since her last donor meeting, but Hermione hadn’t had a chance to sit and digest what had happened. She’d busied her week with prospective student interviews, finalising lesson planning and working on the next year’s curriculum. In truth, she almost didn’t want to think about the donor meetings, none had ended well. Narcissa Malfoy had certainly been an unexpected guest. But it was what she had said that was niggling at Hermione the most. She couldn’t deny it, a wealthy donor who didn’t want to interfere with her curriculum was incredibly enticing, but it would be foolish to think that the Malfoy name wouldn’t impact on the Academy’s reputation. The Malfoys never did anything without a good reason, and Hermione wasn’t interested in being a pawn on someone else’s chessboard. Those days were long gone.

The girls that entered her classroom at nine-thirty focussed her priorities. They were earnest, hardworking girls willing to take a chance on her school, on her and her staff. Most of them left friends behind at Hogwarts, she couldn’t offer them quidditch or a large lake on their doorstep. They deserved anything she could organise for them, even if it came from the Malfoys. Brittany Mallouse cemented that for her, when five minutes before the end of the lesson, she tentatively raised her hand.

“Headmistress Granger, will the school still be open next year?” She set her wand down carefully and took a moment to survey the room. The other girls weren’t outright staring, but she could tell that they were waiting for her answer.

“Of course, Brittany. The school will remain open next year, and for many years afterwards. Even if we stop admitting secondary students, we will also be open to supporting your further studies, both magical and non-magical.” The tension remained in the room.

“May I ask what’s brought this on?” Brittany looked nervously about the room.

“There was an article this morning, in the Prophet. They said that the school can’t survive, the wards are too weak, the grounds were empty for too long, and the school has no money.” Hermione let out the breath she’d been holding. Just the Prophet.

“Well, I’m sure that’s certainly scared a lot of us. I didn’t take my copy this morning, it must be in my office. Maybe we should all gather at lunch so I can speak with everyone at once. What I’ll say for now is this, there is absolutely nothing to be concerned about, we had our wards assessed by Gringotts and we have the funds to support us for many years to come.”

——————————

Dr Parkens was playing mother and pouring out tea for the staff.

“You know, I can’t help but think there’s someone behind this. I’m pretty sure the Parkinsons are shareholders in The Prophet.” Hermione tucked her feet under her on the lounge and looked around the room. She’d kept composed in front of her students at lunch, but her anger was beginning to build. These women had put an enormous amount of trust in her, and in the Academy. They had spent months together, discussing the curriculum, what a graduate of the Cambridge Academy of Witchcraft should be. That someone would try to put an end to what they were doing there, to stop them before they’d even really begun, was infuriating.

“I disagree,” Said Luna. “I don’t think it’s that complicated. This is something new, and Wizarding Britain resists change.” Dr Parkens nodded.

“This is a small, gossipy society. It was only a matter of time before we were in the news.” The rest of the staff nodded along. Hermione sighed.

“Still, I can’t just sit by and let this happen. I’ve had to clear time to speak to our current families, and I can expect that most of our prospective students will rescind their applications. I can’t let them end us, not like this.”

“So don’t.” Parkens levelled Hermione with a firm stare. It was comforting, in a way - her staff weren’t fools. She had never wanted them to stand behind her because of her name, but because they believed in the cause, in the girls. She didn’t want staunch supporters, she wanted colleagues who would challenge her, who could disagree with her.

“I think the girls are feeling better after lunch, either way.” Carmen De Valle broke the tension.

“Yes,” Luna agreed. “Their auras have calmed this afternoon. We’ll see out this term well.” Well, Hermione wasn’t too sure about that, she still had one potential donor to deal with.

——————————

_Dear_ _Headmistress Granger,_

_Thank you for your comprehensive tour of the grounds of The Cambridge Academy of Witchcraft last week. It was an honour to walk in the footsteps of my scholarly ancestors. I trust that the term has started well and that your students are eagerly applying themselves to their studies._

_Firstly, I would hope that you are aware that the Malfoy family are currently the Major Shareholders in The Prophet. I recommend ordering tomorrow’s edition for a retraction of today’s story, you should also expect a direct apology from the current Editor-In-Chief Arnold Blythe._

_Secondly, it has come to my attention that rejection letters have been distributed to prospective donors. As I have not yet received a letter myself, may I assume that I am still under consideration? If so, may we organise another meeting this weekend, when I presume no lessons are scheduled?_

_Sincerely,_

_Lady Narcissa Malfoy_

——————————

——————————

_Dear_ _Lady Malfoy,_

_Thank you for your well wishes. The Academy has sprung back to life with the return of our students, it is very pleasing to see the girls so happy in their lessons. As staff, we are currently interviewing prospective students and writing our final exams. We hope to send our conditional offers of acceptance to twenty girls next week._

_I also must thank you for your concern over this morning’s article about my school. It has distressed my students, staff, and understandably, their families. We appreciate your support during this time._

_It is true that I have sent out letters to the bulk of prospective donors this last weekend. There are some prospective donors still under consideration, yourself being one. If you are interested in organising a meeting, may I suggest luncheon in the Fellows Hall this Saturday with myself and some of my staff? The meal shall be served at twelve noon._

_Sincerely,_

_Headmistress Hermione Granger_

_Order of Merlin Second Class_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been a while, work, uni and internship and all that. Hope to return to regular posting now. Hope you're all keeping well <3

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for stopping by, please leave a comment letting me know your thoughts and where you might like to see this go in the future. I have some pretty strong ideas but am also open to suggestion :)


End file.
